


Cough

by Suneku



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Anal, Desk Sex, Dirty Thoughts, M/M, Psychic Abilities, S.T.A.R.S.-verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 17:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3496043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suneku/pseuds/Suneku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a slow, monotonous day at work, Chris's mind begins to wonder to very interesting areas. Unbeknownst to the young sharpshooter, Captain Wesker is listening in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cough

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this on my fanfiction account. Based off a tumblr prompt. I hope it isn't too terrible, I beta'd it myself and it turned out a little too fluffy for my tastes, but anything else I tried to replace the ending with didn't fit as well as the original. Constructive criticism and comments are always appreciated! :]

It was yet another boring, paperwork-filled day in the S.T.A.R.S. office, and Chris had tried everything to keep himself occupied, alas in vain. It wasn't as if he could just get his damn work done and finish early, no way. That would be completely uncharacteristic of the young S.T.A.R.S. operative. It appeared, Chris noted, that his adventures in the land of boredom were not a lone journey. Jill had just about fallen asleep on her keyboard, and Barry was constantly checking his watch and the clock on the wall. The only human being even dedicating just a fraction of his mind to his work was, of course, Wesker. Chris may have idolized his Captain for his work in the field, but he could not simple comprehend how the blonde could pay so much attention to paperwork, as if it was his passion or hobby.

Wesker peered at the half-asleep workers from behind the pedestal, clearing his throat as a sign that they'd better get back to work.

Chris took note of that instantly and began aimlessly typing away a report, his fingers pressing harder on the keys than needed, conveying his annoyance. Not so surprisingly, however, after only about 5 minutes, he found a new distraction. The Redfield glanced up at his Captain, who was flexing and cracking his neck. Had his unshakable, focused boss been getting tired of the reports himself? The thought itself seemed unthinkable, yet his suspicions were justified when the stoic man yawned silently.

He hadn't realized he'd begun to stare at his Captain, until the blonde looked up at him for a brief second before going back to his work, jotting down this and that with his pen. Chris, having no other means of occupying himself, stole glances and allowed himself to study Wesker.

His arms were the main area Chris was oogling at. The young sharpshooter noted how Wesker's biceps flexed and stiffened every time he wrote something down. It reminded him of how confident his Captain's stance was when the team practiced at the shooting range; his muscles tightening with each shot, then relaxing, then tightening... Click... Relaxing... Tightening..

Chris mentally slapped himself. He sounded like he had a bro-crush on Wesker, which was certainly not the case. The brunet grumbled to himself, adverting his eyes back to the screen in front of him.

"Redfield," the blonde started, breaking the silence abruptly and almost causing Chris to fall out of his chair. "Is there an issue?"

"Uh, not at all, sir," Chris stammered out.  _Yeah, there is,_  the younger man thought despite his efforts to surpress it.  _You're not on top of me right now._

The pointman's eyes widened.  _Where in the hell did that come from?!_  Of course, he must've meant on top of him, as in combat training, teaching him a new technique or something that was completely heterosexual. The man behind the pedestal smirked, and once again returned to his paperwork. The next thing Chris's eyes were fixated on, was the way his collar revealed a lot of his collarbone in the position in which he stood.  _Stop it,_  Chris chided himself. It worked, that is, until he heard the ever-so-quiet sound of a button being undone.

"Jill, would you be as kind as to turn down the heat a bit? Its a tad too warm for my liking right now," Wesker pointed to the thermostat next to Jill's desk. She complied with a quiet, yet respectful, "Yessir," then returned to her work.

Fuck, Chris mentally swore, subtly biting his lip as he gaped at the even more exposed neckline. He could see the start of perfectly toned abs the color of priceless marble, causing him to grip the edge of his desk with one hand, attempting to pull away from his distraction. However, the odds of pulling himself away from his daydreams about the older man were slim to none.

' _Just wanna pull that vest off, tear those buttons open, and be able to finally get a good look at that delicious chest. Hell, I'd let him bang me in a locker if I could just get a piece of him,_  Chris smirked, abandoning all morals and just focusing on his desires.  _Have him take me from behind, or maybe even ride him... Yeah, I wanna see his eyes._   _Wanna see him moan out and give me a lustful glare.. Unf..._  Chris felt warmth pooling in his groin, and shifted to hide his growing hard-on.

_Wait a minute._  In all honesty, Chris had a phobia of someone reading his mind, it was one of his deepest fears. Usually it was just because he didn't want them knowing about his parents, or even him getting kicked out of the army.  _If you can hear me, cough._

On cue, a cough broke out in the room, and it took Chris a moment to realize who had emitted it.

Wesker.

_Oh, no... No..._  That couldn't be! It must've been a coincidence. The pointman's stomach churning, he let out another mental command, this time, more specific. _If you can hear me, adjust your sunglasses, run a hand through your perfect (dammit, that slipped) hair, then twirl your pencil twice._

The blonde knowingly smirked, and did as he was told to.

The sharpshooter almost screamed, his face turning a deep crimson. Chris glanced away, trying to steer his thoughts clear of his Captain, but could only think of how he'd look when he pounded Chris over and over, his muscles flexing just as they had when he was shooting. The way sweat would glisten over his perfectly toned chest, and even his ass, and  _oh, God-_

"Chris, could you meet me in my office for a minute? I have a few questions about this report you turned in earlier," Wesker said suavely, yet inconspicuously.  _Yeah, right. More like fire my ass for knowing that I wanted him inside of me._  That thought led to another perplexing realization, how the hell would he make his way to Wesker's office with a raging erection? When he had thought of a way to conceal his throbbing dick, he looked up to find his Captain'd already disappeared into his office, the door closing behind him with a click.

Chris waddled over to the door across the room, making sure to only show the others his backside, finally reaching his not-so-safe haven of Wesker's office. After he pointman closed the wooden door behind him, he couldn't muster the strength to look at his Captain, his eyes fixated on the wooden slats that covered the floor.

"Christopher," the blonde  _purred?!_  He wasn't sure what he'd heard, but it surely wasn't a ridiculing tone, nor one he recognized. "Look at me." Hesistantly, Chris's eyes trailed up to find something he couldn't believe.

Wesker sat slumped in his chair, his legs spread apart and resting on either side of the desk, giving Chris a wonderful view of his pelvic area. His shirt was unbuttoned half-way, the sleeves rolled up to his midarm, his vest long discarded, and his black jeans unbuttoned and unzipped. The navy blue dress shirt had one opened side pushed outwards, revealing Wesker's perfect nipple, which he had been stroking as he stared Chris dead in the eye. His shades had been cast aside as well, giving the pointman an open view of his gray-blue eyes. The overall "come-hither" aura his Captain gave off was irresistible, and the young operative found himself walking towards Wesker in a dazed state. Chris straddled Wesker in his office chair, which he had found big enough to comfortably hold the two, and looked at him with eyes full of wonder.

"Chris, how long have you been feeling this way about me?" the blonde inquired, running his hand up and down Chris's left bicep.

"That depends," Chris teased. "on how long you've been listening." In truth, Chris had always found himself thinking about his Captain, but in smaller amounts, nothing like he had thought about today. Little things, like how fascinating his brow was when perplexed, or how perfect his posture was. Chris had always brushed it off as simple admiration. He didn't bother asking how Wesker could read his thoughts (that could be a discussion saved for a less heated situation), and even thought the idea scared the shit out of him, it made the blonde that much more dangerously desirable.

Wesker genuinely laughed at his response, it coming out in a sultry purr, and Chris would do anything to hear that chuckle again. But for now, Wesker was occupied with other tasks, such as cupping the side of Chris's face with his free hand, still smiling slightly. Chris laced his arms around his Captain's neck. Leaning down, the pointman brought his lips to his Captain's, which was a notion eagerly accepted. The blonde dominated the kiss, but it was not chaste or completely lust-based. No, it was laced more heavily with passion and regard, sending butterflies to the Redfield's stomach. As moments went on, both parties deepening the kiss, exploring each others' mouths with their tongues, the men started grinding against each other. Chris felt Wesker's member hardening underneath him, begging to be released. He complied, and started helping Wesker shrug off his jeans and boxers. His Captain's member was quite a sight, and Redfield anticipated Wesker ramming into his orifice to the hilt with each growing moment. Chris ground his still-clothed ass against Wesker's exposed cock, mewling out to get the blonde's interest, which he certainly had already. A bit too much interest, perhaps, as he found his Captain practically tearing off his jeans and work shirt. Wesker smirked when he found the brunet went commando, but left himself little time to sit and ellaborate on the thought. The blonde's hand wrapped itself around the pointman's cock, teasing the tip with his thumb, swirling around the precum there. Chris drew Wesker back into a kiss, moaning into his mouth as the man touched sensitive points on his shaft. His Captain proceded to pump his cock oh-so-slowly, working his way from the tip to the base in a teasing rhythm. Chris bucked in his hand, desperate for more friction. The blonde just trailed his hand that was cupping the side of his face down to his neck, across his back, and then finally rested on his ass, which he grasped firmly, keeping him still.

"Captain..." the brunet pleaded, staring into his gray eyes. "...please." He leaned down to Wesker's ear, suckling on the lobe. "Fuck me," Chris whispered. Without delaying any further, the blonde leaned foward, careful not to push Chris off of him, to rummage through his desk drawers for some type of lube. The Captain grumbled, frustratedly slamming the drawers shut.

"Its okay," the pointman murmured knowingly and brought his Captain's hand up to his mouth. He took Wesker's index and middle fingers into his mouth and began softly sucking on them. Chris coated the fingers with as much spit as he could manage, swirling them around with his tongue, practically deepthroating them _. If only I was sucking his cock,_  Wesker heard Chris thinking quite loudly. He moaned out and felt his cock twitch at the thought of Chris sucking him off, taking all of him in his mouth and bobbing his head up and down his shaft skillfully. As with any task, the pointman was a quick learner, mostly having a natural knack for anything, ans Wesker hoped blowjobs were not an acception.

When Chris had thought he'd provided enough spit, he withdrew Wesker's fingers from his mouth. The blonde caught him in a deep kiss as soon as he did so, not even giving the younger man a chance to breathe. Lifting Chris up off of his groin enough to reach his hand between his ass cheeks, Wesker prodded at the sharpshooter's entrance, feeling Chris let out a hiss of surprise into his mouth. The brunette bit down on Wesker's lip when he pushed one finger in, slowly, yet desperately wiggling its way in. Looking at Chris for the okay to move, the brunet nodded quickly, as if telling him to hurry up. Wesker began fucking Chris's ass with his lone finger, feeling the muscle tighten around it with every move. Patiently, he slid the second finger in, and began to explore the man's asshole more, pushing in deeper and thrusting his hand out faster. He heard the man on top of him cry out in pain, not yet fully adjusted to the fingers inside of him. Wesker made an attempt to calm him, whispering sensual, soothing words to him, making Chris relax a bit.

Now that Chris was not as tense, the blonde was given more access to the tight passage. This certainly was the pointman's first experience with something like this, and the thought of claiming Chris's anal virginity excited the Captain greatly. Wesker's finger finally found the spot he was searching for when he heard the brunette let out a pleasured cry. He focused on hitting the spot as much as he could, his fingers working in and out with great precision.

"Captain... Oh, fuck.. 'can't take it much longer..." Chris moaned, burying his head in Wesker's neck, biting down on the blue fabric that resided there.

Wesker took the cue and pulled out his fingers and moved his hands so they firmly held Chris's toned asscheeks. He navigated his member to the pointman's entrance, keeping the man hovering over him for a bit.

"Are you ready? There's no need to hold in your delicious moans once we get started; the walls are soundproof," Wesker purred into Chris's ear. The tone itself was intimidating to say the least, but the all-too-eager brunet sucked up every bit of lust that poured from the words. He awkwardly nodded (but Wesker could hear Chris's thoughts practically screaming _fuck yes I'm ready, take me_ ), and brought his head up to meet his Captain's predatory eyes. With one quick thrust, the blonde buried himself fully within Chris. Throwing his head back, the man let out a strangled cry, the sheer girth of Wesker's manhood practically tearing him open. Wesker rubbed his lower back with one hand, attempting to get him to relax, but found the brunet shaking his head forcefully.  _I'm good, just keep going. I can't explain how this feels, but its fucking wonderful whatever it is,_  Chris's thoughts rang. Smirking, Wesker started thrusting into the man wantonly, letting all self control fly away.

Chris continued to cry out and display a pained expression, letting the Captain know he wasn't reaching his prostate and only creating an uncomfortable situation for the sharpshooter. With a possessive growl, Wesker lifted him and Chris off of his desk chair, holding onto him with one arm, and furiously sweeping every paper and pencil holder off his desk with the other. He slammed Chris's back onto the barren surface, not looking to waste time. The blonde took Chris's left leg and rested it over his shoulder, giving him full access to the asshole he was currently bucking into. With every thrust, he found the brunet's cries of pain melt more and more into moans of pleasure. When Wesker felt Chris's fingers dig into his back, he knew he hit the man's prostate. He mercilessly hit the spot dead on, the sharpshooter's gasps of ecstasy willing him on. Wesker heard the sounds of more files falling to the floor, but he honestly couldn't give a damn. He was too occupied listening to Chris's lust filled thoughts, which were barely comprehensible. Every time the blonde pulled out completely and rammed back in, he heard a loud _fuck... Harder..._  echo throughout the man's mind. Wesker leaned down to the man's ear.

"Don't just keep it in your mind, Christopher. Let me hear you physically say it," Wesker drawled, his accent becoming thicker and his tone deeper. When the man on the desk didn't comply, the blonde grabbed his cock, and teasingly began rubbing the tip.

"I want you to say it, Redfield. Moan it. Moan my name," he hissed into Chris's ear, jerking his member more forcefully. Chris tilted his head back, trying to find the willpower not to come right then and there with his Captain's languid voice surrounding him. However, Wesker took the opportunity to attack his exposed neck, licking and suckling on tender flesh.

"A-ahh... Oh, God. Captain," Chris panted out, hoping that the blonde would be merciful. His pace thrusting into him and rubbing him off only increased.

"My name, Christopher. Not my title," Wesker chided, nipping his neck.

"Wesker! Fuck! Make me come, Albert!" Soundproof walls or not, Wesker felt the employees outside were getting an earfull, but he could give less of a shit right now. In his fervorous haze, he wanted them to know he was claiming Chris. Making him his. Wesker fucked Chris's ass deep and fast, his hand forgetting about the sharpshooter's member as he selfishly sought his own release. The brunet didn't seem to mind as he continued to push himself against Wesker, wanting every last bit of his cock inside of him. Chris chanted the blonde's name over and over, until he finally found his release. His hot, sticky come spurted out onto his abdomen. With a few final, deep thrusts, Wesker climaxed as well, and Chris felt his warm seed pool into him. The feeling was amazing, in fact, Chris relished in having the blonde's come fill him. Wesker collapsed on top of Chris and moved his leg off of his shoulder. Their bodies melted together and the Captain found young arms snaking around him. He welcomed them, nuzzling his head into the sharpshooter's neck. Wesker pulled out of Chris, hearing the man let out a whimper at the sudden movement. Chris tried standing up and putting his pants back on, but felt a strong hand hold him back. Before he could raise an eyebrow, Wesker had scooped him up and placed him in his comfortable office chair. The blonde placed both of Chris's legs on either of the chair arms. Wesker kneeled and placed both hands on Chris's thighs as he began lapping at the come on his belly.

"Oh-h..." Chris choked out, now understanding what his Captain was doing. He was cleaning him up. Wesker simply nodded slightly as he looked up at him with a gaze that, if Chris hadn't known the blonde better, was innocent. The Captain moved his head lower, now facing the brunet's opening that his seed was leaking out of. Chris hissed when he felt a warm, wet organ lapping at his entrance. He fought the urge to squirm when he felt his Captain's tongue enter him, licking out the come. As his tongue delved more into the passage, Chris felt his cock hardening again.

"Wesker," he panted, his hand subconsciously wrapping around his hard-on. To make matters worse (or perhaps better), the blonde wrapping one hand around Chris's, rubbing his cock with him. Wesker hadn't expected to have to clean up Chris's abdomen again, but it wasn't something he'd object to. Seeing the man climax was quite the sight, and Wesker could watch it over and over again, drinking in every moan and gasp the man emitted. Before long, Wesker realized he was no longer licking out any come from the man and just rawly eating him out. He felt his silky hair being grabbed by the brunet as he called out his name.

"A-almost there, Captain," he croaked, grinding his ass against Wesker's face, desperate for more. The hand covering Chris's own tightened and guided Chris's hand faster, helping him reach his release. With a long moan and a shiver, the brunet came. Wesker stood, looking at Chris's pleasured, worn body with a cocky grin, admiring his handywork, so to speak. The blonde took a finger a scraped up a bit of Chris's seed off his stomach, and held them in front of the pointman's face. Chris licked his dry lips and took Wesker's finger into his mouth, licking every last drop of his come off. Chris adjusted his legs so that they were sitting correctly in the chair, throwing his head back and closing his eyes, still feeling the afterglow of his climax. A weight shifted on top of him, and he opened his eyes to find Wesker had sat on his lap, his legs dangling off of the armrest. The blonde lay his head on the brunet's chest, half-lidded eyes staring off into nothing.

"Captain," Chris sighed, half smiling.  _I love you_ , his thoughts spoke. "Oh, shit, I, uh, didn't mean to say, uh, I mean think-" Chris was silenced with a pair of lips covering his own, a strong hand running through his chestnut hair.

I love you too, you imbecile, Wesker's voice echoed in Chris's mind. The pointman thought he was imagining things, until he saw the blonde staring at him with a smile covering his face that said it all.


	2. Late

The sun leaked through the curtains, casting a light glow upon the two naked men snuggled closely together. A white comforter had been stolen by the brunet sharpshooter, Chris Redfield, making his captain, known as Albert Wesker, huddle closer to the other man for warmth. Chris had always been naturally warm, making the need for the comforter seem useless, but it was one of the many things the S.T.A.R.S. Captain loved about his pointman. Whenever he was cold, he always latched himself on to the brunet, or found himself wanting to when they were in public. No one knew about their relationship that had been going on for a good month and a half, but Wesker was damn sure they speculated  _something_ was going on between the two. They kept it a secret, not because of the fear of people knowing about their sexual preferences, but because Chris understood that fucking your boss was usually a big no-no. Wesker honestly didn't give a damn, but he respected Chris's opinions and saw the importance of not letting it out in the open. The blonde rustled awake for a moment to adjust his position and cuddle into the sharpshooter, smiling and sighing softly.

_**BEEP BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP BEEP.** _

Chris and Wesker practically jumped out of bed, startled at the alarm abruptly blaring throughout the previously serene room. The brunet groaned when he hit his head against the headboard, instinctively bringing a hand up to rub it. Wesker reached across the injured brunet to smack the snooze on the wretched alarm, reluctant to get out of bed and thinking they could spare ten minutes. But as the captain eyed the bright red LED sleepily, it dawned on him that they, in fact could not.

"Chris," Wesker groaned in annoyance, jumping out of bed and dashing to the bathroom to hurriedly brush his hair. "You set the alarm an hour late, you buffoon!" Chris immediately sat upright, staring at the clock in shock. Their meeting was in fifteen minutes! The brunet rolled out of bed, rushing to throw on a dress shirt and retrieve a tie that were thrown to the ground lazily during last night's  _activities._ He dug out a pair of pants from his dresser, slamming the drawers shut rather loudly. Wesker stormed out of the bathroom, bending over to grab his sunglasses and tie off the floor. The blonde muttered something about 'borrowing Chris's pants' before ransacking the dresser.

When both men had gotten fully dressed, they rushed out the front door (with Chris clumsily tripping along the way due to improperly tied shoes) and into Wesker's car.  _Irons is going to throw a fit,_ Wesker thought as he started the engine, glancing over at Chris, who he had found was still shaken and trying to recollect his thoughts from the morning's chaos. Sighing, he backed out of the driveway and into the street. They were practically driving to their own graves. The blonde adjusted his sunglasses as he turned the corner. His eyes had averted to the brunet once again after five minutes, this time finding his pointman passed out, with a trail of drool falling from his lips.  _I'll let him sleep until we arrive,_ the captain decided with a smile, admiring how angelic Chris looked when he slept, aside from the drool and all.

Arriving, Wesker tried shaking Chris awake by his arm, but to no avail. Poking him, still no response. Placing a little peck on his cheek? Nope. He huffed and formulated a plan to get the brunet awake.

"Redfield! Do you have those reports completed yet or not?! Get to work!" Wesker barked. Chris's eyes snapped open as his head jerked to the side and hit itself against the window. The man certainly had a knack for harming himself when waking up, it appeared.

"Yes, Captain! Right on it!" he replied in a pseudo-positive tone, before realizing where he was. Seeing the black dashboard, his mind practically screamed, " _Oh, you egotistic asshole,"_ as he glared at Wesker harshly, who was smiling evilly and attempting to hold in laughter that was trying oh-so-desperately to escape.

"Let's go, slacker. We're late," the blonde reminded Chris, tapping his watch. The younger man nodded and stepped out of the car. They walked across the parking lot towards the station frantically. Wesker ran a hand through his silky hair as he held the door open for the brunet, grumbling when he felt it wasn't in it's usual perfect state.

"You look fine," Chris muttered nonchalantly, as if reading his thoughts. Knowing the Redfield, if they were anywhere else, he would have put extra emphasis on  _fine._ The blonde was not satisfied with the words, however, and continued to huff about how certain strands fell out of place and such.

Finally reaching the conference room, Wesker threw open the door and stepped inside, Chris following behind him. The room, which was previously filled with voices debating certain subjects, fell completely silent. A million dirty looks scrutinized the two, some expressions confused. It was expected that Chris was late, but Captain Wesker was usually the one always nagging people about being punctual. Wesker could  _feel_ people mentally deeming him a hypocrite as the silent seconds went on.

"Ah, Captain, Redfield, nice of you to join us finally," Chief Irons chided, looking the two over with scrutiny. Wesker stood in front of Chris in a formal, yet defensive stance, biting back a heated glare towards the chief. The blonde subtly ground his teeth together, adjusting his glasses, and hoping his words did not convey his true hatred towards Irons.

"Yes, I'm sure it is. Christopher's car broke down and he called me about likely being late to the meeting. Feeling it my duty, as S.T.A.R.S.'s Captain, to make sure my team members arrive on time, I picked him up at his house. However, my pointman's a slow morning person, and made us late," Wesker explained smoothly, successfully keeping salt out of the words.

" _Your_ pointman?" a no-name employee sneered questioningly. Chris rolled his eyes.

"Correct.  _My_  pointman. As in, a member of the team I command, if you're so dearly interested," the blonde retorted quickly, glaring daggers at the unknown officer. The other man quickly took the hint that it would be best to keep his thoughts to himself, looking down at his paperwork and not wanting to meet the captain's eyes.

"Well," Irons interjected. "take a seat; we're almost done here anyways."

* * *

"Almost done," Chris's ass. The meeting dragged on for what seemed like hours. When it finally had wrapped up, people began stacking their folders into piles and gathering their belongings. Chris looked over to find Barry whispering something in to Jill's ear, while simultaneously glancing at him and the Captain. Narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms, he nudged Wesker with his shoulder. The blonde, who was formerly occupied with talking to Enrico, focused his attention on what the brunet was showing him. Wesker listened in on what Barry's conscious was going on about, and the words  _"Chris wearing the captain's tie"_ stuck out very prominently. Deciding to confront the two's gossip, he got up and tapped Jill on the shoulder, gesturing out into the hallway to have a chat with them.

Chris idly sat spinning in his chair, fumbling with a pencil and glancing at the clock every five seconds. He couldn't help but stress over what they were whispering about and wanted his captain to come back with answers and evidence as soon as possible.

Finally, Wesker came walking through the door and sat down next to Chris again. He looked at the blonde with eyes full of wonder, only to get a grumpy glance in response.

"Look at your tie, Christopher," the blonde muttered simply.

Looking downwards, his eyes caught the sight of a dark, deep blue fabric that everyone saw Wesker walking around in most of the time.  _Oh, shit..._ Chris facepalmed. To this, Wesker made a small noise in agreement.

He was wearing Wesker's tie.

How the hell do you explain having another man's tie on? He couldn't say he borrowed it from the Captain; he had no excuse to. There were a million ties in his closet, and Jill, who visited him regularly, knew that. Plus, the blonde guarded every fashion accessory he owned with his life. He couldn't say he happened to buy the same tie, because the extravagant asshat had his named sewed into the back. The cat was out of the bag, and all because of one little tie. A piece of insignificant fabric spilled the beans about his relationship with Wesker.

And to be honest, he didn't  _care._ Chris wanted them to know. He was sick of the little guessing games they played behind his back. So, he dragged his Captain,  _his_ Captain, by the wrist out into the hallway where Jill and Barry still resided. Before Wesker could raise an eyebrow and get a grasp of what Chris was thinking about, Chris slammed him against the way and caught him in a deep kiss.

_"No more secrets,"_  Chris's mind spoke to the blond, breaking away slightly, his lips still brushing Wesker's. That's all the blonde needed to hear before he had his lips back against the other's, kissing him eagerly. Chris laced his arms around Wesker's neck and Wesker wrapped his own around  _his_ pointman's waist.

_"Aside from the big one, correct?"_ Wesker's thoughts protruded into Chris's. The brunet simply nodded against the kiss, grinning like an idiot.

The look on Barry and Jill's faces as they stood in utter shock was priceless, to say the least.


End file.
